“There is nothing like a tomato sandwich now and then.” — Harriet the Spy

The Prairie Fire that Wanders About

September 27, 2009

So Fairlywell and DJ got hitched. I wish you all could have seen the look on DJ’s face when he walked out in front of all of us in our rows of chairs to wait in front for Fairlywell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grin so wide. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. It was, I think, my favorite part of the wedding to see him watching Fairlywell walk across the courtyard arm in arm with her brothers.

It had been cloudy and drizzly all day, but amazingly, it cleared up just in time for the outdoor ceremony. Fairlywell made everything but the food and it was all spectacular. The ceremony was hilarious and touching with just the right mix of laughter and tears. But the reception was a blast. Mr. Spy knew no one but the bride and groom and I only knew the people I’d met at Fairlywell’s shower and bachelorette party. Fairly had named the tables after books and we were trying to decide whether to be offended or honored to be at the Confederacy of Dunces table. But it was a very lively table full of extroverts. We were seated across from a couple from Boston who are getting married themselves in a year of so and whom Fairlywell is helping get organized. I can’t think of a better person for the job. Weddings breed talk of weddings and we all described weddings past and present — our own, and those we’ve attended.

There were little surprises everywhere, from a bar tucked into a silo, to cocktail napkins printed with facts about the bride and groom to the photo booth with costumes in the hayloft (no actual hay). Mr. Spy put on a fedora and enormous glasses. I wore a sombrero and a pink feather boa.

I had at least three different conversations which went something like this:

She: Hi I’m Happy Guest.

Me: Nice to meet you, Happy. How do you know the bride and groom?

She: I used to go bungee jumping with Fairlywell when we worked together in Guam. How about you?

Me: Oh, Fairlywell and I met on the internet and now we sometimes go biking and eat pie.

She: You’re a blog friend? What’s your name?

Me: Harriet the Spy

She: Oh, YOU’RE Harriet the Spy. It is SO nice to meet you. I’m BlogFanatic3!

Me: Wow, it’s so nice to put a face to the name!

Mr. Spy was amused by all of these conversations. And actually, so was I. I’m thinking the next time I have a party with real and imaginary friends that we should have nametags with our avatars. Simpler. Mr. Spy was also amused by the quirky mix of oldies, Indy Rock, folk and jazz standards. “This sounds just like your iPod,” he said. And it’s true. It did. This is probably one of the reasons why Fairlywell and I are friends. Also, we swap a lot of CDs.

I must confess, though, that Mr. Spy and I (okay, mostly me) were getting sleepy far too early. Mr. Spy had gotten up in the middle of the night for a while. I slept, but I had weirdo dreams, like the one where two raccoons were fighting and one of them was wearing a green t-shirt that read “MONKEY HATES YOUR FACE.” Really. I told Mr. Spy about this dream and he said, “Who has dreams like that?” to which I naturally replied, “I do. Do you really think I could make these things up?” In any case, we did managed to talk to nearly everyone, to take a few turns around the dance floor, and to leave sufficiently after the grandparents so as not to feel like true senior citizens. We managed to get to our car without aid of walkers or canes and drove home a little above the speed limit with the stereo turned up loud (and not because our hearing aids needed batteries) so there is hope for us yet. But the party was still going strong and hopefully continued that way for a few hours more.

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Sounds like a good time. It reminds me of when I went to Detroit to see j-leem for the baby shower of her and dark-knight’s little girl (an after-the-fact baby shower, which makes much more sense to me than the usual kind). People asked who I was, and I kept saying, “I’m j-leem’s friend from Canada.” “How did you meet?” “On the internet, in the same place where she met dark-knight.” Until people actually pinch you, they don’t believe you’re quite real.

I would wear that t-shirt. You and Mr. Spy did well with the sensory overload, there was a lot of stuff and sound and people. It was fun to have my imaginary friends meet! Oh, and you should be honored: that was my favorite book. 🙂

I am fairly certain that were I to wear such a t-shirt, it would thoroughly embarrass Mr. Spy to be seen with me. And that is reason enough for me! Julia, I was, actually, most flattered. And I thoroughly enjoyed the company at our table. If you’re going to be a dunce, it’s nice to be in a confederacy. I was hoping Ignatius J. Reilly was going to be sitting at our table. Or at least under it. But I supposed then you would have had no leftover cake in the morning.